Biatch, you really are going to make me go first aren’t you? It doesn’t matter that I’ve been sick as a dog, worried about college tuition and working my fingers to the bone, does it! No! Until I put you on my blogroll, you will NOT BUDGE!

Sob…no love for the Diva? (as I take another swig from the champagne bottle and stuff another Godiva into my face) No problem (sob) You have left me no choice but to send my flying monkeys to destroy you… I know where you live… in Australia…it is down there… somewhere. Now, where is my damn map? (throwing the empty champagne bottle and snapping my fingers for my minions to go fetch another one)Crap, can’t find a map (sob) Ok, monkeys, this is what I want you to do: fly south for a few days and then turn left when you hit the tip of South America. Keep going until you find a big island where they evidently roast Barbie Dolls covered in shrimp (hiccup) Now, where is my damn champagne?